CHAPTER 70
JINGYI
It was not often that JingYi was summoned to the Hall of Serenity. The last time had been the day her father announced her betrothal to Alexander Wulfbane. She doubted today’s summons carried the same intent.
Still, the thought did cross her mind: Perhaps the ministers had worn ShunLi down. That another Alpha lord, from Xûen or Tzadun-Khör, had been selected as her next husband. The notion sat like iron in her stomach.
Three months of peace, of not being someone’s solution. Still, the whispers had never ceased.
An Omega shouldn’t be alone for long, they said.
Her blood was too precious, they said.
She must remember her place, they said.
The transition still left her reeling. To go from an unwanted bastard to an exalted princess, praised for the very blood she hadn’t been permitted to claim, was a whiplash no soul could prepare for.
Today’s summons, in particular, stirred not only dread. It nudged a sliver of hope she had tucked into her last letter to Reiyana—a secret question she hadn’t shared with anyone in the Xûen court.
When she entered, ShunLi was already seated upon the golden salamander throne—a relic from their father’s reign. That, too, should be changed. It belonged to an era they were all trying to outgrow. Two ministers she didn’t recognize flanked the dais, likely from the Bureau of Outer Relations. Their expressions gave nothing away.
JingYi crossed the hall and dropped into a respectful curtsy, lowering her gaze.
“May a thousand years of peace grace His Imperial Majesty. How may I be of service?”
ShunLi’s voice, though measured, carried a flicker of warmth, and a rare wonder that made JingYi’s chest clench with hope.
“Sho Meisha, an unexpected envoy arrived at the palace gates this morning. He brought a message addressed directly to me, along with a sealed letter for you.”
JingYi kept her expression still, though her heart quickened. “A letter?”
ShunLi gave a single nod. He lifted the scroll from its tray, the seal already broken. “Prince Kaelendrin of Asadia has submitted a formal offer. He seeks to retain you as a physician under contract, with primary duty to the royal family.”
The tension in her chest began to uncoil. Her letter to Reiyanahadworked. And now, a favourable reply had arrived. A lifeline.
“The terms are outlined here.” ShunLi didn’t read from the parchment, as if he’d already memorized its content. “A stipend commensurate with a senior court appointment. A private suite within the Asadian royal palace, staffed and maintained by the crown.”
He let the silence hold for a breath, his gaze meeting hers. “You will have freedom to treat patients at your discretion, noble or common. Freedom to research within their archivesand conservatories. Should you wish to publish your findings for the benefit of Issoirea, the crown will fund the scribing and distribution across the Nine Kingdoms.”
A murmur of astonishment rippled through the ministers.
“And,” ShunLi continued, “upon completion of a twenty-year term, you will be granted a lifetime pension and a personal estate.” He paused to consult the scroll, laying the terms carefully before her. “Twenty acres outside Mezerin, a manor, a medicinal greenhouse, and a household staff of your choosing.”
He held up a smaller envelope, still sealed. “This letter is addressed to you.”
Her hand trembled as she accepted it.
To Her Highness,
High Princess Xûen JingYi,
Word travels quickly, even across deserts. We have heard of your return to Xûen-Sarai, and of the path that brought you there.
So, I am offering you a position. Again.
Reiyana insists she has never received better care and speaks of your company with more fondness than her husbands can compete with.
If the terms are agreeable, we would be honoured to have you. If not, I have sent a solicitor with an unfortunate love of contracts. Feel free to negotiate him into the ground.
